


Deserted Disaster (Except Not Really)

by holdyourbreathfornow



Series: HYBFN Freak Fam Stuff [3]
Category: Freak Fam - Fandom
Genre: Bleeding, DIY bullet removal, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Multi, badass main character, car crashes, cursing, don’t worry she’ll be fine, implied sexual harassment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-18 21:16:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20198308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holdyourbreathfornow/pseuds/holdyourbreathfornow
Summary: A deal goes very, very wrong





	Deserted Disaster (Except Not Really)

“God…” Disaster leaned against the wheel of the car she’d driven, blood oozing from her side and staining the fabric of the fancy dress she was wearing. “DAMMIT!”

She officially had a new contender for worst negotiation ever.

-

There had been a new gang coming together like a rising storm on the edges of Los Santos, and Disaster had been able to get in touch with the gang boss and arranged a meeting. However, she hadn’t been able to find anyone who could come with her, everyone else either busy or healing up.

That was fine. Disaster had been alone before. She could do it again. She just… Didn’t want to. 

The gang boss was a grinning, greasy little man with a penchant for Axe body spray. With him had been a woman built like a brick shithouse, hair shaved into a military regulation buzz and hand resting on a pistol the size of Disaster’s head. 

The boss had wanted to meet at an abandoned truck stop on the edge of town and Disaster couldn’t convince him to come any further into town no matter what she did.

Apparently Shirk’s shitty luck had rubbed off on her.

The boss had been staring blatantly staring at every bare inch of Disaster’s skin the entire time while his bodyguard stood patiently over his shoulder. Every time Disaster spoke, every deal she tried to make with the horrendous little slimeball, had been met with crude jokes and transparent double entendres.

And Disaster had had to put up with that. In her mind’s eye, she fantasized shooting him between his squirrelly eyes, but she was a negotiator, not a killer. At least, not yet. Besides, Disaster had had to make deals with plenty of men like that, not that she ever told anyone. Half the criminal population would be dead if her partners found out what they said to her. God forbid what her family would do.

And then the boss’ bodyguard killed him. She’d raised that giant pistol and liberated the little boss of the back half of his skull.

“What the fuck?!” Disaster had screeched, leaping to her feet and falling backwards over her chair, barely staying on her feet.

“Sorry, mum, but you undastand it’s just business, innit.” Idly, the woman swiped a speck of blood off her face and recocked her gun. Disaster was already running when that great beast of a thing roared again and buried its metallic teeth in her side.

-

And now she was here, no weapons to her name and a demon woman out for blood. 

Plus, her dress had cost $600! She wasn’t getting that back!

“You gotta come out eventually, mum.” The bodyguard cooed mockingly from the doorway of the restaurant. Disaster could see her feet in the sand across the road. “That desert sun is awful hot.” 

And wasn’t that just goddamn peachy too, because the thing was the woman wasn’t wrong. The sun beat down overhead and Disaster was on the wrong side of the car for it to provide any shade. Sweat had already begun to dot up across her skin and ruin her makeup. 

She had one more option before she had to resort to desperate measures. Keeping one eye on the woman’s still feet, she fished her phone out of the pocket she’d had added to her dress and whipped her phone out. Disaster clicked it on and cursed every higher power she knew when she saw the lack of bars that meant she was well and truly stranded out here.

No service meant she couldn’t get in contact with anyone, after all.

Disaster looked down at her dress once more and sighed. She’d really liked this one. Then she grabbed the hem and ripped a long strip from the dress and folded it in half before holding it firmly between her teeth.

Disaster exhaled around the fabric slowly before plunging her hand into the open wound in her side. She screamed as loudly as she dared through her gag as she pinched the crumpled end of the bullet and worked it out, agonizingly slow.

-

She had a flashback to when she was very young. It was the first time her dad had been hurt on a heist after he had brought her home to live with their family.

She’d been in the living room, making Trevor be the evil dragon she was fighting with her purple and ornge knight doll, when the front door creaked open and the rest of the Fakes trudged in, looking like shit.

Michael and Gavin were the first in, Gavin supporting Michael, who was oozing blood from a burn wound on his leg. Jeremy was in next, white cowboy hat gone and face dusted in ash. Finally, Jack and Geoff had come in. They were the least injured of the rest, and Jack swooped over, picking Disaster up and settling her on her hip.

“Where’s Dad?” Disaster asked, looping her arms around Jack’s neck, and her aunt sighed, pressing a kiss into Disaster’s blue hair. (Back then the dye was still temporary, washed out in the bath and replaced as soon as Uncle Jeremy wasn’t busy.)

“We’re going to go see him. He got hurt.” Jack grabbed her purse and walked out the door with Geoff on her heels while the Lads went up to their rooms to rest.

In the hospital, Ryan had winced when Jack sat Disaster on his bed, but Jack had merely raised one eyebrow imperiously.

“You have a visitor.”

“What happened?” Disaster asked, carefully turning so she was sitting cross-legged and facing her dad.

“Eh, one of your uncle’s bombs got a little too hot for me to handle.” Ryn chuckled and Disaster scrunched her nose, not satisfied with that answer.

“Then why do you go out with him and everyone else?” Ryan’s easy grin faded into something a little more somber and he leaned over to pull Disaster into his lap.

“If everything else I tell you goes in one ear and out the other, Disaster Haywood, you remember this…”

-

“Your family will always be there to help you no matter how bad you get hurt.” Disaster told herself with a grin and ripped another strip off her dress, wadding it up and stuffing it into the unwelcome hole in her stomach.

Then she got to her feet. Instantly a bullet pinged off the roof of her car and she dropped into a hunch, pulling herself along the car until she didn’t have anywhere further to go.

“Just let me put a bullet in that pretty face of yours! You’re already making a mess for both of us!” The woman yelled and Disaster sighed.

“Tempting offer! Here’s my rebuttal!” She hoisted a middle finger up above the car and yanked that back down when the woman fired at her again.

“FUCK YOU!” The woman screeched and Disaster grinned as she moved back along the car again, opening the driver’s door and rolling inside, locking it so the woman couldn’t try to get in on the passenger’s side.

“Better finish this fast…” Disaster whispered to herself and gunned the engine, peeling away from the restaurant. At first, she decided to just drive home, but when her side twinged in pain again, she shrugged and decided to do something she always enjoyed doing.

She decided to be the most extra bitch on God’s green Earth.

Disaster spun the wheel and glanced over the dash as she aimed for the woman, who seemed to be playing a game of chicken, her gun aimed squarely at Disaster’s windshield.

“Fucking bitch.” Disaster muttered just before she slammed into her.

-

That fucking woman was still alive after being hit head-on by a car and Disaster was almost impressed. She was more concerned about the fact she was now bleeding from a head wound as well as her side. 

Disaster hauled herself from the car and staggered towards the woman, who was staring up at the ceiling. The woman’s gun lay a little ways away, where it had fallen from her hand, and Disaster scooped it up with the hand she didn’t have pressed to her side.

She walked back and planted one heel on the woman’s chest, pointing the gun at the woman’s face. The woman spluttered and pushed weakly at Disaster’s ankles. Disaster looked her in the eyes, watching the skin already starting to swell and break.

“It’s just business, baby.” Disaster told the woman.

Then she put a bullet between the bodyguard’s eyes.

-

Disaster pulled up to the building where the Fakes lived and sighed, handing her car off to the valet.

“Should I… Call the mechanic, ma’am?” The poor valet asked, looking at the bullet holes and broken windows of the car. Disaster was sure he would get even more freaked out when he saw her blood soaking the leather of the driver’s seat. 

“Just junk it, doll. There’s two bodies in the trunk.” The valet’s eyes widened before his expression leveled out and he nodded before hopping in the car and driving off, leaving Disaster to catch her breath before limping towards the elevator.

-

Alfredo was sitting at the breakfast bar facing the elevator, but he was playing on his phone when it dinged open.

“Hey, Disaster, how did-” he looked up and finally took stock of his niece, who was examining her hair critically in her compact mirror, even as blood stained the floor of the elevator, “-oH MY GOD ARE YOU OKAY?!”

His yelling brought everyone running, the majority of them with guns drawn. Disaster smiled placidly and clicked her mirror shut, dropping it back into her purse and stepping out of the elevator, right into the arms of her dad and Aunt Jackie, who had run forward to catch her as her legs finally gave out and she sagged.

“Get me one of the medics from the medical floor now.” Ryan snapped at Trevor, who nodded and whipped his phone out. “Okay, Disaster, let’s take a look at you.”

“Gunshot in my side. I already removed the bullet and plugged it. Head wound from a minor car accident.”

“I don’t trust your definition of the word ‘minor’.” Jack informed her and she snorted.

“Fair enough.” Jack whipped a knife out and cut a circle around Disaster’s wound, peeling the tacky fabric away so she could get a better look. Geoff appeared over the edge of the couch with an ice pack and a wash cloth, both of which Ryan applied to Disaster’s head wound.

“Jesus Christ, look at this, Geoff.” The boss moved around the couch to where Jack was pulling the fabric of Disaster’s dress out of her wound. “I think she pulled the bullet out herself, it doesn’t go through.”

“With what?” Geoff asked and Jack answered silently by wiggling her fingers at him.

“So how’d you get this head wound?” Ryan asked his daughter and she grinned, slightly loopy as the blood loss began to catch up to her.

“Ran a bitch over. She lived so I shot her. Very snappy one liner, you woulda been proud.” 

“Alllllright, we’re taking her to the hospital.” Geoff announced to the medic who just arrived. As they prepared to move her, Ryan leaned over and kissed her grimy forehead.

“Don’t worry, I’m always proud of you.”


End file.
